


Out With a Bang

by copernicusjones



Series: Fraeger Propaganda [3]
Category: Harvest Moon and Story of Seasons Series (Video Games), 牧場物語つながる新天地 | Story of Seasons (Video Game 2014)
Genre: Background Relationships, Fireworks, Getting Together, Gift Exchange, Gift Fic, Love Confessions, M/M, Rating is mostly for a little language and a couple suggestive remarks, Rings, Some Humor, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24421543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copernicusjones/pseuds/copernicusjones
Summary: Being unable to donate towards the Fireworks Festival leaves Fritz feeling dejected in more ways than one, and wishing he could do something to give back to the town that's provided him with so much happiness.Raeger lends his support, encouraging Fritz to help him prepare refreshments for the event.Raeger, snow cones and fireworks? Fritz is determined to make this night extra-special with a grand finale of his own... if all his missteps don't cause it to fizzle out first.[Written for @_laripea for Bokumono Spring 2020 gift exchange!]
Relationships: Fritz/Raeger (Story of Seasons)
Series: Fraeger Propaganda [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1429435
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15
Collections: Bokumono Exchanges





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This exchange was supposed to have a 1,500 word minimum which for me means 15,000 word minimum. lawl oops
> 
> My giftee, Larissa, was also my gift-er and [drew a scene from this fic for my present!](https://twitter.com/_laripea/status/1269895579779215360/photo/1)
> 
> A few months ago, I also commissioned norree on tumblr [for a scene inspired by my idea for this fic!](https://norree.tumblr.com/post/190387875331/a-commission-of-fritz-and-raeger-from-story-of)
> 
> Please support both these amazing artists! :D

Ever since Fritz had moved to Oak Tree Town and become a farmer, it seemed like he learned something new every day.  
  
Crop growth rates; how to determine and improve soil quality; the correct way to groom his animals and what types of feed and treats they liked most—he hadn't realized how much he'd picked up from Eda until Annie had shown up, and Fritz had eagerly shared the tricks of the trade with her.  
  
And look at her now!  
  
What Fritz had learned yesterday was that, despite buying and selling everything under the sun, the vendors at the Trade Depot did _not,_ for any price, deal in human organs. Without any crops or products to sell, Fritz had offered up one of his kidneys (he didn't need _both_ ) for the low, low, price of 1000 G.  
  
Ennio had asked him to leave, then _told_ him to leave, and finally threatened to ban Fritz for life after Fritz had offered to throw in his spleen, free of charge.  
  
So what Fritz was learning now was that no matter how much of a pitiful sad-puppy face he put on, it was no match for Veronica's disappointed expression, the heavy sigh when he told her he hadn't any money to donate towards the Fireworks Festival.  
  
She reminded Fritz to report to the depot no later than 20:00—he was still welcome to join them—and bid him a good day.  
  
He watched her retreating form, throat tight and caught with a whine he wouldn't let out. He hadn't meant for this! His onions should have been ready to harvest, but the recent storm had dashed those hopes.  
  
“Veronica, wait!” He called, rushing to catch up with her where his property ended at the bridge. “Wait, I might...!”  
  
She turned, blinked. “Really, Fritz, it's perfectly fine if you aren't able to donate. I suppose...” she paused, seemingly trying to find a tactful way to put it. “...it's not the first time this has happened, so I can't be too surprised.”  
  
This was gonna be the year he had not only donated, but forked over enough for a memorable finale. It was about more than just finding favor with the town; there was someone he wanted to make this night unforgettable for.  
  
Nevermind that he'd only just hatched this plan and put it into play a few days ago—hence it completely falling apart before it'd even really begun.  
  
“No, here!” Fritz jammed a hand into his pants pocket—this was the pair without any holes, an absolute must considering what else he was keeping there. He fumbled out a 10 G coin, one that he'd found on the floor of the restaurant when he'd gone there for Raeger's birthday. It was all he had between now and whenever his next round of crops were ready to harvest—or whenever he could find a vendor who was cool with buying a kidney, whichever came first. “Please, let me help. This is really important to the town, I know that. I don't wanna be the only one who doesn't pitch in.”  
  
Veronica stared down at the coin. It was corroded and grubby, like it'd been fished out of the creek—and maybe it had. She pressed her lips together, considering Fritz's plea.  
  
“Please?” he repeated, quiet and desperate.  
  
“Fritz... I appreciate it. Really.” And she sounded, truly, like she did. But she also sounded like she was talking to Melanie or Lutz and thanking them for chipping in the 5 G they might have earned as allowance. “But ten G... you can keep it, okay? Maybe next year will be more profitable for you. We'll see you tonight.”  
  
That's what she'd told him last year, when he hadn't anything to donate either. When he hadn't been half as disheartened, because last year's Fireworks Festival hadn't been a set up for what Fritz saw as the most defining moment of his life.  
  
Veronica excused herself, telling Fritz she still needed to visit Elise—of course she did; what Veronica was asking for for the Festival was peanuts to someone like Elise.  
  
He swallowed, stuffing the coin back into his pocket. It clinked against the other item there, that Fritz knew would sell for more than enough to finance the grandest Fireworks Festival in the Oak Tree Town's history.  
  
That he had promised himself he wouldn't part with, for any price, not after working so long and hard to afford the materials to make it. But was it worth all this regret?  
  
Fritz wondered this, debated it with himself as he went about his morning and half-heartedly tended to the one patch of onions that'd survived the typhoon. He turned it over in his mind, again and again, as he fed his chickens, not even immediately realizing it when they pecked him, for how distracted he was.  
  
By lunchtime, Fritz was halfway exhausted, probably dehydrated and absolutely sunburnt on his ears and neck. But for all of it, he'd finally reached a decision regarding what he should do about the Fireworks Festival.  
  
Tired, hungry, and on the verge of tears, he found himself putting one foot in front of the other and heading towards town. Towards the depot, where he'd sell the ring and bring the money to Veronica, proving he wasn't a failure or a flake.  
  
It'd been a stupid idea in the first place, crafting the ring. Fritz had been so sure he'd wanted to, saved up over the course of two seasons to buy the fluorite and then the silver... but didn't it say something, how shocked Mistel had been when Fritz had admitted what he was buying the silver for?  
  
If it weren't for Mistel's comment, Fritz wouldn't have had any doubts about the ring—but that was just it, wasn't it? That he'd been too oblivious, too lovestruck with Raeger to see what Mistel had pointed out as rather obvious—that the idea of anyone accepting Fritz's offer to enter a committed relationship required a certain suspension of belief. Mistel, who was the most perceptive person Fritz knew, and who was smart and worldly, despite his age, hadn't realized there was anyone Fritz was so intimately acquainted with, or vice versa. And surely he, or his girlfriend Annie, would have been aware of such a development.  
  
Though he wished Fritz luck in his endeavor all the same.  
  
Luck would have nothing to do with it! If he and Raeger were destined to be together, then a ring could wait. Fritz had only wanted to give it to him because he knew how much of a romantic Rae was; a traditionalist, in so many ways. Well, that, and because giving him a ring would make all Fritz's previous proclamations of love _mean_ something.  
  
Fritz was certain that he and Raeger were meant to be, and sure, a ring would be one way to show it, instead of simply telling (and telling and telling and telling). But he was also certain that he could show it in other ways, like by doing what Raeger did for him—encouraging him, lending an ear after a bad day, making sure he was fed and hydrated.  
  
Tonight, for example: Fritz could stay by Raeger's side at the most spectacular Fireworks Festival in either of their lifetimes, keep him company and tell him it was okay if he flinched when the fireworks were too loud. Maybe even grab his hand if Raeger needed something to hold on to. None of that required a ring.  
  
The confidence many in town described as Fritz possessing to a fault returned anew. His posture straightened, pace quickened as he passed the inn and the guild. Just as he was about to take the steps two at at time to reach the depot ASAP, his gaze automatically roved to the restaurant—to the tall, lean figure standing atop one of the patio table's outdoor stools and fiddling around with one of the broad umbrellas used to shield customers from the elements.  
  
“Rae!” For all Fritz had already learned, there were a ton of things he never would, and among them, surely, was how to keep himself from smiling whenever he saw Raeger.  
  
Raeger acknowledged him with a slice of a wave and a weary smile of his own.  
  
It was like a dog being tossed a bone; Fritz sprinted over to the table just as Raeger hopped down off the stools.  
  
Instinctively, not wanting Raeger to stumble or trip, Fritz reached out to steady him with both hands locked to Raeger's arms. “Whup, careful there!” he advised. “Wouldn't want you to go fallin' for me.”  
  
Only after the words left his mouth did Fritz realize his how his phrasing could be misconstrued—not that he was embarrassed by it.  
  
Nor did Raeger seem bothered by it, only confused. He nudged off from Fritz. “I wasn't falling. At all.”  
  
“Oh, hm, then maybe it's just all this exposure to the sun, and I'm startin' to see things?”  
  
“That's called heat stroke, Fritz.” Raeger headed towards the restaurant, motioning for Fritz to follow. “C'mon, get inside. You look like you could use something to drink.”  
  
“Huh, yeah, I guess I am pretty thirsty!” Fritz chirped, following Raeger into the blessedly air-conditioned restaurant. The sweet, juicy scent of fruit hit him instantly; it was almost like being in Annie's orchard. “Whoa, whatcha makin'? Something awesome, I'll bet!”  
  
“Some snacks for the festival tonight.” Raeger rounded behind the counter, pulling a pitcher of water out of the fridge. “That's less that Veronica'll have to spring for, and more money for fireworks.”  
  
At the mention of money, Fritz fell silent. Thankfully, he had another excuse to not respond, as Raeger set out a full glass of water. Fritz grabbed it immediately with both hands and glugged down half the glass. It tasted cucumber-y and minty. _The pinnacle of refreshing_ , Fritz thought as he stared at Raeger the whole time.  
  
“Oh, man, good thing I have you, Rae!” Fritz placed the glass down. He used his arm to wipe his dripping mouth, all the while grinning over at his friend. “ _Ahhhh,_ my very own tall drink of water!”  
  
This is when Fritz would've expected Raeger to regard him with suspicion, trying to decipher what, exactly, Fritz meant. But instead, he let out a soft laugh through his nose, pouring himself a glass too. “Look, before you waste your time flattering me into letting you try the snacks... I made a little extra for you.”  
  
“What?!” Fritz nearly swooned; Raeger was good about allowing Fritz to taste-test new menu items, but just _making_ him something, unprompted, not for any special occasion? What a guy! How could Fritz _not_ be head over heels? “Seriously? What'cha got for me?”  
  
“Smoothies.”  
  
“Smoothies!?” Fritz exclaimed. “Well, heck, bring 'em on! Those strawberry soy ones you had last season were scrum-diddly-umptious. But I'm guessing you outdid yourself, huh?”  
  
“Let's hope so. I've been trying to mix different fruits and vegetables together and make sure they're healthy—to some extent, anyway.”  
  
“Genius! So whadja come up with?”  
  
“Mango-carrot and cucumber-watermelon—that one Annie came up with. She's been growing crops like crazy in her greenhouse over the past few weeks and... well, she can't use all of 'em.” Raeger spoke fondly of Oak Tree Town's most successful farmer, and Fritz might have been jealous had he not been enamored of her, himself. Professionally, of course! “She's let me have basically as much as I want to see what recipes I can make, so they don't go to waste.”  
  
“So you _literally_ reap the fruits of her labor. Veggies, too!”  
  
Another light laugh. “Yeah, something like that. If they're a hit tonight, I'll probably end up selling them at the cafe for the rest of Summer.” Raeger went back to the fridge and came out with two more transparent pitchers, of what Fritz assumed was the smoothie mix. One was a sunny orange, the other a vivid, punchy pink. “Here; if they can't get past you, they're not gonna be at the festival.”  
  
Fritz waited patiently as Raeger poured out samples of the smoothies; Fritz's samples looked to be about three times more than what a sample should be—not that he was complaining.  
  
He took a sip of the pink one—cucumber-watermelon, undoubtedly. Then, he tried the mango-carrot.  
  
Both were delicious! But he sat quietly, squinting off into the distance as he let the tastes, as well as the thoughts they evoked, process. His only movement was licking at the sweet stripe above his lip, left behind from the smoothie—Raeger would frequently tell him to just use a napkin, and Fritz would counter that he wasn't going to just wipe away leftovers.  
  
“What, what's wrong?” Raeger asked after several seconds of silence. Which, from Fritz, was practically an eternity.  
  
“Nothing's _wrong_. Just... thinkin', s'all.”  
  
“Look, I've told you a hundred times, I want to know if something I make isn't up to par.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I know!” For as much as Fritz showered him with compliments, he wasn't afraid to let Raeger know when one of his dishes wasn't quite up to snuff. Why shouldn't he? Fritz knew to be the best farmer ever, he had to accept that sometimes criticism was warranted.  
  
“Okay, then...” Raeger gestured for him to keep going—quite a rare occurrence.  
  
“Hey, I think they're freakin' delicious! But... smoothies, you can have them any time of year. Heck, _you_ serve them year-round here!” Not that Fritz ever had enough money to buy one, but he'd tried several when Raeger had deemed them no longer fresh, and suitable for public consumption. And so to avoid them being poured down the sink and going to waste, Fritz would chug down as much as he could. “What about something more... more summery! Like shaved ice! You could use the flavors you have here, mango and watermelon, and nothin' says summer like shaved ice and watermelons—they're perfect to have while watching fireworks! Oh, I know! You could—”  
  
“No, Fritz.” Raeger knew exactly what Fritz was about to suggest. “ _No_.”  
  
"—break out your birthday present.” Fritz continued right on over him. “C' _monnnn_ , you even said we could try it someday. You _promised_ , bro!”  
  
“I didn't mean a week later,” Raeger replied.  
  
“Then you shoulda been more specific!”  
  
“I don't even know if it _works_. You told me it was for sentimental value, more than anything.”  
  
“Well, that doesn't mean we can't _try_ it! If it doesn't work, then it doesn't work, and that's that. But if it does...”  
  
“Then what, we'll drag it to the depot and make snow cones for everyone?”  
  
“Yeah, exactly!” Fritz nodded.  
  
“I guess...” Raeger sighed, with the look of a man defeated. “It wouldn't hurt to see if it works.”  
  
After washing up, Raeger left Fritz to his smoothies, and headed upstairs. A few minutes later, he reappeared, toting a box with a photo of a large white doghouse on its front.  
  
“Ah, there it it is!” Fritz leapt up from the stool, and followed Raeger as he carried the box to the kitchen.  
  
Raeger unceremoniously dropped the box on the counter. “I have no idea why my mom kept this—why she didn't just throw it away.”  
  
“Um, because it's awesome?” Fritz replied, like _no duh_ , the same way he would have responded if someone asked him why he liked Raeger.  
  
“If you're in elementary school, yeah. Do you see this, Fritz?” Raeger pointed to the box's bottom-right corner, reading what was printed there in big white bubble-letters. “Ages four and up.”  
  
“Well, what the hell, that's me!” Fritz countered. “I'm 'and up'!”  
  
Raeger groaned. “Maybe it's not a big deal to you, but I'd like to have _some_ kind of standard in regards to what my restaurant serves...”  
  
“This isn't _from_ the restaurant, Rae, this is just us two screwing around! No one's gonna think that you'd serve this _here_.” Fritz stabbed his finger firmly onto the countertop. “They won't complain about cheap-ass shaved ice, and it's not about _quality_ , it's about the experience—you know, kind of like me!”  
  
“Alright, alright...” Raeger started to acquiesce, but Fritz went right on over him.  
  
“If they like it, then you can tell everyone you'll have the smoothie versions here on the menu, like what you had me try. And if they don't, well, then just tell them it was my idea. No harm, no foul!”  
  
“I know... still, I just like seeing everyone satisfied,” Raeger said, unpacking the box. “Especially for the Fireworks Festival. It's become such a staple in this town—it was the first one I ever took part in, actually, when I moved here as a kid.”

 _Ah_. Now Fritz was beginning to understand. “I get it—I remember my first one, too! Granted, that was only four years ago, but seeing fireworks that up close and personal—I'll never forget it. Livin' in the city, you don't get those kind of things. And it's been bigger and better every year since!”  
  
“Here, hold this...” Raeger set the machine, which was way flimsier than Fritz would have thought, upright between them. Fritz obeyed, and Raeger crouched down to tighten the support clamp around the machine's base. “Oh, I mean, I enjoy it _now_ , but I was _terrified_ the first couple years. I'd always be clinging to my mom or grandfather.”  
  
This wasn't something Rae talked about too much, his childhood. Fritz knew it was because, by his own account, Raeger had been shy and awkward as a kid, but Fritz also sensed it came from Raeger missing both his grandfather and his mom. So, normally, Fritz wouldn't pry—he knew that feeling of missing family, all too well.  
  
At this point, however, it felt natural to ask for more detail. Like Fritz was essentially being _invited_ to. “What about... uh...?”  
  
But before Fritz could get his tongue around the rest of the words, Raeger had already gone to the freezer. The moment was gone.  
  
“What, what?” Raeger turned, holding the ice tray he'd rummaged out. He popped a few of the cubes out and plunked them into the roof of the machine, packing them down with the ice pusher that was adorned with a smiling dog.  
  
Fritz fumbled for an edited version of his question. “What about...” He showed off the first thing he could grab, a thin plastic red shovel, that he supposed was for scraping the ice out. “This! Can I be official ice-scraper?”  
  
“Go for it.” Raeger said with a laugh. “Here, you wanna do the honors and turn the crank too?”  
  
Suppressing a grin, Fritz found the handle in the back of the machine. “Haha, oh yeah, sure, I'll turn your crank, Rae.”  
  
“...What?” Raeger squinted at Fritz.  
  
“What?” Fritz parroted back, loud over the heavy grinding of the ice.  
  
The results of the crank-turning were underwhelming, to say the least. Fritz had expected a stream of evenly-crushed ice to come spilling out, but all he got were a sputtering of what looked like frozen wet sand.  
  
“Wow, this thing kinda sucks,” Fritz said, scraping at the chips of ice stuck in the machine's dispenser, pushing them into a cup Raeger had provided.  
  
“ _Yeah_ , that's what I was trying to tell you.” Raeger said with a sigh.  
  
“Doesn't your blender have a button for smashing ice up like this?” Fritz asked, while taking the splash of mango-carrot smoothie he had left, and pouring it over the ice.  
  
“Yeah, but there's no power outlet at the depot. That's why I was gonna make smoothies ahead of time—a few pitchers, enough for everyone in town to have one, and bring everything down there.”  
  
" _Oooooh_. That would make more sense, I guess. Wouldn't it?”  
  
“ _Yes_ , it absolutely would.”  
  
“But this is more fun, don't you think?” He took a swig of the... snow cone, if it could properly be called that.  
  
“It's... a lot of work for so little output, but, yeah. With you, it's fun. I wouldn't use this thing with just anyone.”  
  
“Haha, _seee_ , what'd I tell ya? All about the experience!” He passed the slushy concoction to Raeger. “Here, try it, it's not half-bad!”  
  
Raeger did. “Hm. It's passable enough to sell for five G, yeah.”  
  
“And _that's_ what matters. Plus, what, snow cone syrup can't be all that hard to make. You'd use less ingredients than the smoothie mix, right? So, see, not only are snow cones fun, we're being fiscally responsible, too!”

Here he was, one to talk about money and saving it, or using it wisely. But he still had plenty of time to run over to the depot and sell this thing—well, he would if Raeger quit being so appealing, with all his luring Fritz to stay, and talking to him, and feeding him! Sneaky!  
  
Raeger mumbled something begrudgingly accepting, but not without a smile twisting its way out. He didn't protest when Fritz offered to dismantle the snow cone machine and began doing so.

It'd been so easy to set up, Fritz had underestimated just how complicated it was to take apart. Well, more, it was getting everything neatly back into the box correctly. While turning the machine upside-down to make it fit properly, he saw three jagged letters in permanent black marker—a child's scrawl—along the base. And Raeger's initials.  
  
Fritz's grin went unnoticed by Raeger, who was rinsing the smoothie cups and, from what it looked like at quick glance, slicing watermelon. However much Rae wanted to talk about this toy being useless and kept purely for old time's sake, he'd, at one time at least, cared about it enough to label it as _his_.  
  
Just as Fritz closed the box's flaps, a plate of watermelon, followed by a small bowl of yogurt, appeared in front of him.  
  
“Huh? What's this?” Obviously he knew _what_ it was, but the why? Not so much.  
  
“Just a thanks, for helping me out.” Raeger handed him a fork. “Watermelon's left over from the smoothie mix, and Annie brought me some of this Jersey Fruit Yogurt. She said it goes great with other fruits, if you wanna throw some on top there.”  
  
“But you're not about to, huh?” Fritz said. It wasn't that Raeger didn't like dairy products—they didn't like him.  
  
“Not if I want to live to see the Fireworks Festival tonight. Which I do, after going through all _that_.” Raeger stood next to Fritz, leaning forward with his elbows resting on the counter. Very casual and conversational. Raeger, not Chef Raeger (Or Chez Raeger, as Fritz would sometimes call him, teasingly). “Speaking of which, are you cool with meeting here about a half-hour before the Festival? Help me bring everything down to the depot to set up? You can stay with me at the booth and help pass the snow cones out, too, if you want.”  
  
“Haha, _surrree_ , you just need my muscle to keep cranking that ice out all night.”  
  
Raeger rolled his eyes, but didn't refute it. “Yes or no, Fritz?”  
  
“Yeah, of course! But are _you_ sure? That booth is kinda small, and I don't wanna get in the way or anything.” Really, he didn't want to watch as Raeger witnessed all the side-eyeing that was sure to be directed Fritz's way.  
  
“Since when has getting in the way ever stopped you before?” Raeger asked. There was a time when he would have sounded annoyed by this fact of life—how Fritz was akin to the parade of ants that invaded the restaurant nearly every Spring, that Raeger had waged war with for years.  
  
Now, he just sounded amused by it, and it made Fritz's heart skip.  
  
“You really wanna be seen with a bum like me? I mean, _you_ , Raeger, you're _the man_ , and I don't even have a penny to my name.” Stabbing another piece of melon, Fritz gave him a sheepish grin. “Might be bad for business.”  
  
A lot had changed between them, especially over the past year. Raeger'd become somewhat more accepting of Fritz's compliments and declarations of loyalty; instead of rejecting them, he would just say nothing at all, or change the subject. Which, to Fritz, was certifiable progress.  
  
“No offense, but you don't have that much leverage when it comes to my restaurant's rep. And you came up with the idea, it's only fair. Besides, I really don't want to go alone.”  
  
“You won't be alone! The whole town'll be there, and you know Lillie's gonna save you a spot with her family.”  
  
“No, I mean... it'd be more fun going _with_ someone. You know?”  
  
Fritz stared at Raeger, forkful of melon suspended halfway to his mouth. He laughed, because for as much as he'd always wished for this, to actually have it come to pass was pretty freakin' funny. “If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were askin' me out!”  
  
There, again. Instead of telling Fritz to cut it out, or narrowing his eyes, wary of the comment's intent, Raeger said nothing. Fritz took the opportunity to cram the fruit down, moan of appreciation muffled by the fork.  
  
Finally, quietly, Raeger replied. “I dunno, Fritz. Me asking you out, that'd be—”  
  
“Weird as hell!” Fritz finished through another mouthful of yogurt, echoing what Raeger had iterated to him early and often, during the time they'd known each other. What Mistel had reminded him of, so recently. A laugh fell out. “Don't worry, man, that makes two of us who think so.”  
  
“Yeah. Definitely weird...” Raeger trailed off. “Nevermind, if it's too much of a hassle, then—”  
  
“Haha, aw, c'mon, Rae, you know if it's _your_ way I'm getting in...” Goddess, flirting with Raeger was so counterproductive to Fritz's new plan of selling the ring. But he supposed it'd been shot down in flames from the moment Raeger smiled at him out at the patio. “—then that's different! Sure, I'd be more than happy to join ya.”  
  
“Great.” Raeger didn't look glad, he looked... _relieved_. Like he'd been _worried_ about asking Fritz.  
  
“Yeah, it's great!” Fritz wiped at his mouth with his wrist. “Thanks for the grub, too. But I got a few last-minute errands to run, if I'm gonna meet ya back here later.”  
  
Fritz was out the door in a matter of seconds, satisfied both physically and emotionally. The past half-hour had proved exactly why something like a ring didn't matter—it was only an object, and he'd trade in a hundred of them for another afternoon like this.  
  
“Come back if you need anything to drink—and be careful, okay?” Raeger said from the doorway. “It's a scorcher today.”  
  
Fritz didn't have to be told, but it was _Raeger_ doing the telling, so that made it acceptable. “Yeah, of course, always am! You too, alright? Don't wear yourself out—just kick back until it's go time!”  
  
“Maybe after I finally finish fixing the umbrella.” Raeger nodded over to the table that he'd been standing atop when Fritz had first arrived. “That storm the other day took it out, and I can't for the life of me get it to stay back up. I can't tell if it's broken or if I'm doing it wrong—but, both are strong possibilities.”  
  
“Aw, you just need a handyman in your life, s'all.” Fritz nudged Raeger's shoulder with his own.  
  
“No kidding, but Gunther's over fixing Giorgio's coop, and—”  
  
“I mean _me_! Sheesh!” Fritz wandered over to the table to get a closer look. “If I can turn your crank, then a little umbrella is no problem!”  
  
“Fritz, it's really not the biggest deal. I can check with Gunther again before I open the place tomorrow and—”  
  
“No, man, I got it!” Fritz clambered onto the stool, the table. He put a flattened hand to his forehead, using it as a visor against the blazing sun, and surveyed what was around him—the town, and Raeger. “Whoa, what a view! Now... let's get this bugger workin'...”

Despite further opposition from Raeger, Fritz bumbled his way into positioning the umbrella upright, and fixing it into the post on the table. No wonder Raeger had had trouble with it! It was so heavy, long... totally unwieldy.  
  
“You weren't joking, this thing is a pain!”  
  
“Yeah, I know—last time I set it up, Maurice had to help me 'cause it's basically impossible with one person. Especially when that one person gets winded after two minutes.”  
  
“Haha, well we'll just have to find ways to build your endurance, won't we?” Fritz said as he blindly groped under the closed canopy. “Ah, I think I got it! Found the crank, hah.”  
  
“It's not the crank I'm worried about, it's the _base_.” Raeger was frowning, but he didn't _sound_ too upset. “It won't stayed locked.”  
  
Arm still stashed inside, like it was an extension of his own limb, Fritz gave it a testing shake. “Seems fine to me! Weebles and wobbles but it won't fall down. Here, I can pop it open too, just to see if it holds up.”  
  
“Fritz, would you—... _Look out_!”  
  
So that's what Fritz did. He looked out—or up, rather. With a metallic groan, the table umbrella collapsed like a felled tree, and took Fritz, arm caught inside the canopy, along with it.


	2. Chapter 2

When Fritz woke up, it was like a firework. One minute he was asleep, the next, boom, upright in bed, eyes open and immediately wondering what _time was it_?!  
  
Holy buckets, he was gonna be late. Or, no—the clock on clinic wall informed him—he was _already_ late. It was 18:20, and people would be gathering in the depot by now. But never mind _that_ ; he'd promised to meet Raeger almost an hour ago!  
  
He called for Marian, then Angela, and was met with no answer. When he wandered, bootless, to the front of the clinic, his assumption was confirmed—they'd already left for the festival.  
  
Hurrying back to the cot, where his boots waited, he caught sight of the bedside table. There was his bill, of course, but it was pinned down by a sandwich plate. A sandwich plate holding a slice of foccacia bread, topped with a slice of ripe red tomato and some half-melted cheese. Sprigs of rosemary served as a garnish.  
  
It definitely wasn't from Marian, Angela, or Veronica. Mouthing a 'thank you', Fritz grabbed the bread and wolfed it down. Dribbles of tomato juice ran down his chin, that he swiped off. Sure, it would've been better had the bread not cooled and the tomato not warmed to room temperature, but Fritz didn't care about minor details like that. Raeger made it, so it was top-notch.  
  
As he gobbled it up, he tried to recount what had transpired since he'd fallen—or, more accurately, been knocked off—from the patio table. The last thing Fritz remembered was Marian sterilizing and bandaging his arm—well, that, and Raeger letting Fritz grip his hand as Marian administered the tetanus shot. Then, Raeger leaving, reluctantly after Marian told him he'd keep Fritz there a couple hours in case the cut needed to be redressed. Fritz had protested but Marian gave him a glass of iced tea, both to hydrate him and because, the doctor had said, it would soothe him. Help him relax...  
  
It must've been laced with something! But Fritz had to admit that he, for the first time in a couple weeks, felt somewhat well-rested. His bed, and home as a whole, was lacking in comfort. Everything was secondhand, or decades old. Better he rest now and be a little late than pass out while watching fireworks with Raeger.  
  
Raeger! The restaurant was literally a hop, skip and a jump away, but it might as well been a voyage across the world, for how far apart from Raeger he felt.  
  
With a frustrated sigh, he stuffed the bill into his pocket.  
  
Into his _empty_ pocket.  
  
Oh _no_... Oh nononono. He checked his left pocket too. Then his waistband, his vest pockets... Twice. Three times.

The ring was gone.  
  
“ _Frick_! Frickfrickfrickityfrick...” Fritz dropped to the floor, scrambling to search under the cot and all around it for the ring. Nothing. He even looked inside his boots, the only article of clothing he'd removed since being at the clinic, which were resting at the foot of the cot. Nope, nothing in there except a funky smell. Yeesh.  
  
He allowed himself a moment to curl up in a defeated little ball, and pounded at the floor once, _hard_ with his empty, holey, boot. The ring wasn't just gone.  
  
_He'd lost it_. Oh... now he wouldn't even have _proof_ of an excuse as to not contributing. Nor could he sell it tomorrow, and get _something_ to compensate for what he'd failed to give tonight.  
  
And what made it worse—a bajillion times worse—was just that he'd lost a ring. It was that he'd lost _the ring he'd made._  
  
For Raeger.  
  
Maybe this was Fate's way of telling him it wouldn't have worked out. That Raeger would have rejected his gift, and it was for the best that Fritz had lost the ring, so he wouldn't be tempted to change his mind about selling it. Maybe when the time _was_ right, he would find it—or someone would find it, and be kind enough to turn it in to the guild.  
  
Whatever the future had in store, Fritz's focus had to be on what lay immediately ahead. That ring or no ring, relationship with Raeger or no, there was still a festival to attend, snow cones to hand out, and a guy to try and make happy.  
  
Between bites of foccacia, he jammed his boots on, and wasn't even finished chewing as he nearly flew out of the clinic. Should he just head to the depot? Or would Raeger be waiting for him—impatiently at this point?  
  
His answer came as soon as he exited the guild: Raeger was over by the same patio table that Fritz had fallen off of.  
  
Fritz took off towards him; it was like a repeat of their meeting earlier that day. “Aw man, you waited for me!”  
  
“Of course I— _oof_ !”  
  
Raeger staggered backwards, all of Fritz's weight thrown at him in a crushing hug. Fritz buried his face into Raeger's shoulder, squeezing him extra-tight. There was a tentative pat on his back, what must have been Raeger's attempt to return the hug.  
  
“Fritz, you just got out of the clinic, could you at least _try_ not to put yourself— _or me—_ back in there?”  
  
With a laugh, Fritz pulled away. “Haha, sorry, I just ah... I mean, you _waited_ for me, I didn't think you'd...”

“Well, _yeah_ , I told you: I can't lug all this crap there by myself...” Raeger motioned to the what as on the table behind him: the snow cone machine, in its box, as well as a large ice cooler. (And unsurprisingly, no large, open umbrella.)  
  
“It's not crap! These are our _tools of the trade_. Have a little pride, man!”  
  
“Alright, well, regardless,” Raeger said, with next-to-no pride. “I can't carry it all to the depot myself. Especially down the steps. I already asked Gunther to bring one ice chest over earlier—this one here has the syrups in it, and thankfully Marian was nice enough to take the paper cups; he stopped by about a half-hour ago to tell me you were still resting.”  
  
_"Yeah_ , I was! He musta put something in my iced tea! I was out like a light the minute I laid down.”  
  
“Maybe you _needed_ the rest? The heat'll do a number on anyone who's outside as much as you are.” Raeger paused, picking up the box and leaving the ice cooler for Fritz. “You really know how to make a guy worry. Your arm's okay, though?”  
  
“Eh, I can't feel a thing,” Fritz said as they set off to the depot. “It looked worse than it actually was, I think. But I wouldn't have missed this festival for the world, not even if Marian'd had to amputate my arm. I can't wait to serve all these snow cones with you—and see the fireworks, of course! It's gonna be a real humdinger this year!”  
  
No thanks to him, but that didn't matter much to Fritz in the moment. Not with how Raeger gave him a gentle smile that said, quite simply, he couldn't wait either.

* * *

They were the last ones to arrive at the depot, but no one seemed to pay it mind as Raeger led Fritz to the information kiosk that Jonas typically manned.  
  
“Veronica said we could set up here,” Raeger explained, placing the box on the counter, beside the sleeves of cups that Marian had brought already. Carefully maneuvering into the kiosk, Fritz gratefully set the cooler down with a loud _thud_. When he looked up from it, Raeger wasn't anywhere to be found... where did he go?  
  
But Fritz didn't have to look far—Raeger was knelt down outside the kiosk, wiping clean the standing chalk board reserved for weekly vendor information. With a steady hand, he used the variety of nubby chalk sticks to create an advertisement for the snow cones.  
  
Fritz went over beside him to take a look. “'Heat Wave' and 'Summertime Splash'! Whoa, they sound good!”  
  
“That's the point,” Raeger said, outlining 'Summertime Splash' in blue. “It's about _marketing._ Vegetables are rarely, if ever, a selling point for most dishes—and that includes snow cones made with a kiddie toy. Plus, well, 'mango-carrot' and 'cucumber-watermelon' don't exactly roll off the tongue.”

Fritz nodded eagerly. “Ah, I get it! So like, kinda how when it comes to conquests, I have 'great enthusiasm' and 'give a spirited effort'?” Phrases Veronica used to try and soften the blow, and not outright call Fritz a loser, like Elise so often did.  
  
Raeger laughed, finishing it off by adding in the price of 5 G beneath the flavors. “Sure, a little like that. Here, got anything to add?” He offered a stick of orange chalk to Fritz.  
  
Fritz considered Raeger's question. Did he? No, not really. But what the hey, was he going to pass up an opportunity like this? Also no.  
  
After a minute filled with slashing, frantic movements, Fritz pulled back to reveal his masterpiece; he'd created a border for Raeger's snow cone special, made entirely of...  
  
“What the hell is this supposed to be?”  
  
“It's fireworks! See! There's the... the _bang_! And there's the _fwoosh_!” Fritz pointed to the repeating swirls and arcs of orange chalk.  
  
“Then what's _that_?” Raeger indicated the drawing in the top left corner, a full orange circle with rays bursting forth from it.  
  
“It's the _sun_ , you know, for _summer_! C'mon, Rae, my art isn't _that_ bad.”  
  
“Why are there fireworks and the sun at the same time?”  
  
“Because...!” Fritz clammed up, not sure how to answer that. “Because...! It's the _atmosphere_ , man, it's not supposed to be realistic! Like, it's a _motiff_ , get it?”  
  
“A mo-teef?”  
  
“Yeah, that! Of summer!”  
  
Raeger studied Fritz's addition to the menu for a couple more seconds before saying, “I think whatever Marian might have put in that iced tea is having lingering side effects.”  
  
“Whatcha got there, boys?” came a voice from behind them, as Fritz scowled at Raeger and his comment.  
  
They stood, facing the person who asked. “Oh, hey, Corona,” Raeger said. “If you want a snow cone—”  
  
“A tasty summer treat, an explosion of flavor!... like a firework, just ice!” Fritz put in.  
  
“Er... yeah.” Raeger gave Corona an easy smile. “If you want that, then just hang around for a few minutes. We're setting up right now.”  
  
So they did, quickly and efficiently, if a bit cramped within the confines of the booth. After unpacking the machine, Fritz constructed it while Raeger pulled two bottles with long, tapered lids from the ice chest. Fritz recognized them instantly by the color: the snow cone syrups.  
  
“Alright, what'll it be?” Raeger asked Corona.  
  
“Which would _you_ recommend?” she returned cheerfully, not one bit deterred by the machine's juvenile appearance.  
  
“All I can say is both flavors are summer, to a T. And hey, they're only five G each, why not give both a try? I wanna sell these as smoothies at the restaurant, so the more feedback, the better.”  
  
_Ha, Rae really knows how to sell it_ , Fritz thought as Corona handed him 10 G.  
  
Once Raeger told him to do the honors, Fritz used a paper cup to pour some ice cubes into the roof, then packed it down and cranked the machine with gusto. Raeger had to press himself into the booth's corner to avoid being elbowed. Dutifully scraping the ice into the their paper cups, Fritz poured out the respective syrups and handed the snow cones out to Corona. “Here ya are, ma'am! One Summertime Splash and one Heat Wave, fresh as can be!”  
  
“Thanks, hon!” Corona said to Fritz, then added, to Raeger, “It's really sweet of you to bring on a helper this year.”  
  
Though cool under pressure, Raeger seemed taken aback, struggling to find words. “I don't know about... I mean, it was Fritz's idea, I wasn't gonna... and he got me this...” He awkwardly set his hand on the roof of the machine, avoiding her gaze.  
  
Corona went on, apparently not picking up on Raeger's discomfort. “Maybe if Fritz keeps the good work up, you can have him work part-time at the restaurant. I wish I could get Gunther to help out in the kitchen more, oh, but he's always so tired from his work days; I don't blame him. But you're young, full of energy, Fritz—it's nice of you to do so much for Raeger.”  
  
“Well, he invited me to come with him, of _course_ I'm gonna help, just like he always helps me! I'm not some kinda silent partner, nope, no how!”  
  
Corona laughed. “Exactly, that's the best way to keep a relationship—”  
  
“You wanna try them, Corona?” Raeger intervened. “You're our first customer of the night, and all; don't wanna disappoint.”

Corona took a small, delicate bite of the Heat Wave, and smiled approvingly. “Oh, you're right, this is _very_ summery! I'll bet I can get even Gunther to try it.”  
  
Fritz wasn't close with the couple from the carpentry, but he knew plenty well how picky Gunther was, having heard stories from Raeger about their occasional visits to the restaurant.  
  
“Glad to hear it.” Posture relaxing, Raeger leaned forward onto the counter, arm brushing against Fritz's. He must have noticed, because he glanced briefly at Fritz, but didn't inch away.  
  
“Well, you boys behave,” said Corona, “and I'll see about coming back for seconds—if you don't sell out!”  
  
“Whew, _that_ was embarrassing,” Fritz said as Corona walked away.  
  
“What d'you mean?” Raeger still hadn't moved from his close proximity to Fritz, and granted, it could have been because of the small space they were cramped into, but Fritz didn't think so. Raeger had once been _very_ good at making sure he didn't get this close to someone—another guy, specifically—lest there be gossip spread about his romantic-exploits-that-weren't.  
  
“I mean, she made it sound like—she said her and Gunther, and they're _married_ , and then you and me, but we're not... like... married. Or together, or... even close to it, or—”  
  
“Right,” Raeger cut him off. “Say, why don't you hail people over here? Like a carnival barker.”  
  
“Aw, _man_ , if you woulda told me I could do this beforehand, I woulda brought an outfit and everything!” Fritz backed away, ready to exit the booth. “Like that dog suit the Animal Festival judge wears, or something. But, you know, summertime-y. So like, instead of overalls, it'd have a string bikini, or—”  
  
“Before I change my mind, Fritz.” Raeger pressed his flattened hands together, a pleading gesture.  
  
“You're the boss!” Fritz issued a quick salute. “And hey, maybe Corona has a point about me working at your restaurant—I could do this, hail in customers.”  
  
“Maybe,” Raeger said noncommittally.

“With or without the dog suit, but _definitely_ with the bikin— _d'ow!_ ”  
  
An empty paper cup nailed Fritz in the head.

* * *

To a man, everyone in town stopped by the kiosk for a snow cone or two. Sure, the process was tedious, and would they have liked for them to be a bit bigger? Of course. But no one complained; it was cheap, refreshing, and served with smiles.  
  
Margot, who was more rigid than a ruler, seemed to know right off the bat what ingredients were included—and thankful when she was able to pass the snack off on to Lutz. Lutz even came back for seconds, eager to purchase a snow cone not just for himself but for Melanie. And Lillie, who Fritz knew was staunchly opposed to most veggies, gave the Summertime Splash a try and seemed to enjoy it. Well, she didn't spit it back out, at any rate. Then there was Annie, who was to thank for having supplied the ingredients; she was their most dedicated customer, coming back not twice but three times. Mistel liked the Heat Wave _that_ much, and who was she to deny her loving boyfriend?  
  
Overall, Operation: Snow Cone could be deemed nothing but a success.  
  
So as Raeger counted out their profit, that he'd filled a third, empty snow cone syrup bottle with over the course of the night, Fritz cranked out another round of ice. Summertime Splash for Rae, and Heat Wave for himself.  
  
“So how much did we rake in?” Fritz was at Raeger's side, like he had been earlier when they served Corona. He smelled sweet, from all the fruits, along with something crisp and clean in the back—had he bought a cologne from Klaus?  
  
“That's what I'm trying to figure out.” He had the money sorted into three separate clusters, one significantly bigger than the other two. “The past couple years I've split it eighty-twenty; the town, and me. But you heard Veronica; she insisted we keep more of the profit this year since the donations were much more generous, sixty-forty. I had no idea... I'm glad to hear it.”  
  
He wasn't just smiling, but smiling _at_ Fritz as he took the snow cone cup.  
  
Fritz tried to smile back, but it was a lame attempt. _Crap_ , did Raeger think Fritz had been a part of those “generous donations”? He couldn't possibly, could he? He _knew_ Fritz was so often strapped for cash.  
  
Raeger took a bite of the snow cone—which was basically a third of it—and finished counting out the coins. He slid Fritz one of the smaller piles.  
  
Not that Fritz had ever seen a huge sum of money at any time in his life, but he could tell this wasn't anything more than chump change. It would buy him a pack of onion seeds, but he'd been hoping for something that was at least half the going rate for the lost ring.  
  
“Aw, rats, I thought it'd be more!... What about you, Rae, you've done this before! Didn't you think we'd make bank?”  
  
“Yeah, Fritz, I personally expected to make a million G from selling sugary flavored ice out of a machine designed for kindergartners,” he said dryly. “Of _course_ I knew I wasn't gonna make boku bucks on this. But it's more than enough to give Veronica, to chip in. Besides, it's like you said—it's all about the experience, right? And everyone's loved it. I can't wait to put these on the menu as smoothies—and I have you to thank for it. You were right, it was a much easier sell than if I'd try to pitch the smoothies here. It was the novelty, and all that.”  
  
“Well, uh... do you think I could donate my earnings? Like, would that be okay? You can keep yours, but I'd feel better giving mine to Veronica.”  
  
Raeger shrugged. “Go on and ask Veronica, but I don't see why not. Although, I honestly don't know why you'd want to.”  
  
“Yeah, about that...” Fritz started, completely unprepared to admit any of this. He hadn't expected the opportunity, and now that it'd arose, it felt almost pointless to do so. Everything had worked out perfectly so far; why screw it up?  
  
Because he'd rather be an honest screw-up than omit the truth just because it was easy—it was like Raeger had said back in the restaurant: he valued honesty from Fritz when it came to his recipes, and Fritz had every reason to believe that extended beyond the kitchen, into their friendship and what could maybe, one day, something more.  
  
“What...?” Raeger asked, interested. “You okay? You haven't even touched your snow cone.”  
  
“Yeah, I—”  
  
The trade depot went dim, and a split-second later, black. The lights framing its edges had been switched out, which could only mean one thing...  
  
“Good evening everyone!” Veronica's proud, pleasant voice carried to all corners of the depot.  
  
Excitement rolled like a wave through the crowed—this happened every year, anticipation in the form of squeals and murmurs. Despite the guilt that'd been building up inside him, Fritz couldn't stop himself from feeling the same way.  
  
“Tell me later,” Raeger said, nudging him gently.  
  
Fritz nodded, as Veronica wrapped up her speech, thanking Annie specifically for the donations tonight, and— _what_?  
  
“And be sure to stop by the information booth for a delicious summer snack, courtesy of Raeger. Proceeds go partially towards future festivals for Oak Tree Town.”  
  
Fritz couldn't remember her pitching for Raeger in the past, and his surprise must have been evident, as Raeger saw to elaborate.  
  
“She liked the snow cone idea _that_ much—she said it might be something to have at the Fishing Festival next year too. Just... you know, maybe with a better machine.”  
  
“Hah, really? Guess I know what to get you for Christmas, huh?”  
  
“Fritz.” Raeger sounded skeptical but looked amused. “We both know you're not going to buy me a brand new snow cone machine for Christmas.”  
  
“Yeah....” Fritz admitted. “Yeah, that's true. I'm not.”

The first firework exploded high in the sky, a twinkling yellow-white fountain. Fritz could feel the _BOOM_! In the pit of his stomach. Raeger must've too, because he flinched.  
  
“You alright?”  
  
“Great!” Raeger said with forced enthusiasm. “Just gotta get that first one outta the way, right?”  
  
“Well, don't worry!” Fritz declared as another round _thump-thump-thump_ ed into the air. “Ain't no fireworks gonna get within a mile of you so long as I'm here.”  
  
“If any fireworks came over here, they'd burn the kiosk down,” Raeger said. “Regardless of if you were protecting me or not. We'd be toast. Literally.”  
  
“That's not the point! I'm just sayin'—!”  
  
“I know what you're saying, Fritz.” Raeger's voice had dropped, that he had to dip his head close, lips barely brushing Fritz's ear, to be heard over the din of the fireworks. “And thanks.”  
  
Whatever was erupting overhead was no match for what was inside Fritz, what felt like a hundred firecrackers about to go off—and he was pretty sure it wasn't heartburn from that focaccia he'd snarfed down.

* * *

Try as Fritz might to enjoy the display, he was only maybe eighty percent having a blast. And if Raeger hadn't been there beside him, it would've plummeted somewhere to the twenty-thirty range.  
  
Shame seeped through him as he took in the spectacle above; the dazzling explosions, the cracks and fizzles in every color of the rainbow bathing them in a glorious shower of light. Sure, he hadn't contributed in previous years, but he neither had he stood here and lied to Raeger—or, omitted the truth, which was still lying in his book.  
  
But he'd helped this town, even if he hadn't shelled out for this specific festival! So his pride shouldn't be _that_ wounded. Still, seeing Raeger do something as small as serving snacks—it made Fritz adore him even more, but also feel worse about having lost the ring. He wondered if any of the vendors would have let him pawn it, then buy it back (with interest, unfortunately) when the time came that he felt it was needed—which, judging how this night had gone so far, seemed like it might be sooner than later.  
  
Of course, the night wasn't over yet.

“This is by far the best Fireworks Festival I've been to,” Raeger said after they'd watched awestruck for several minutes. Sprays of green, blue, then green again shimmered surrounded by red halos shooting out all around them.  
  
“Even though we're only halfway in?” Fritz asked hopefully.  
  
“The best,” Raeger repeated, as a huge, circular firework bloomed, creating what looked strikingly similar to a dandelion.  
  
Fritz was about to point out its resemblance, but an unfamiliar weight settled onto his shoulder, behind his neck.  
  
For a second he thought it was some ginormous insect landing on him, but then, he realized...  
  
Raeger's arm... slung over his shoulder. Sure, they were obscured by darkness, by the seclusion the kiosk offered but...  
  
Fritz never had to work so hard in his life to keep his mouth shut. To pretend like it wasn't happening, or if it was, that it wasn't anything special.  
  
An ear-splitting _pop_! came next. Raeger didn't just flinch; Fritz felt his whole body jerk.  
  
“Hey, it's okay, man. I gotcha!” Fritz bent his arm up, wove Raeger's hanging fingers with his own and clenched them tight. “Like I said, if those fireworks wanna mess with you, they gotta come through me!”  
  
It was bold of him, even though nobody would see them, too preoccupied with watching the fireworks. That, and Raeger still had times he was iffy about Fritz's shameless affection. But if Fritz didn't have a ring to put on Raeger's finger tonight, twining theirs together was the next best thing.  
  
Raeger's response was what Fritz might have predicted. A slight tug of his hand, that ingrained impulse to not allow himself to either accept or reciprocate this casual sort of familiarity from another guy, regardless of what feelings may or may not be between them.  
  
And then, he relaxed; Fritz could feel Raeger's posture lose its tension, his arm no longer stiff around Fritz's shoulder. Fritz happily gave Raeger's fingers an encouraging squeeze.  
  
“It's stupid, right?” Raeger said. “I'm not even really _afraid_ of them, they're just... I guess it's kind of a knee-jerk reaction sometimes, when they're that loud.”  
  
“Aw, I don't think it's stupid at all! Nothin' about you is, Rae—I got that all covered for the both of us!” Fritz nudged him gently.  
  
“I took them so _literally_ when I was a kid,” Raeger went on. “Like, they're explosives, right? So I thought of them as bombs, just... raining down debris. Everyone else thought they were pretty, but I was terrified, and I'd just stay stuck to my grandpa's side. Eventually, I got over it, you know—I went enough times, and nothing dangerous happened, no harm ever came our way, so like... I was able to appreciate them.”  
  
“Dude, you have a really complex relationship with fireworks, don't'cha? But I get it! You got all these memories tied to your fam about it, it's no wonder.”  
  
“Or maybe I'm just thinking too long and hard about fireworks, huh?”  
  
“Haha, can't relate; I never think too long and hard about anything.”  
  
Which couldn't have been further from the truth, because all the Fireworks Festival did, whether Fritz was ready for it or not, was make him reminisce on days gone by. Think maybe not very long, but quite hard about a time and place he'd never return to, even if he wanted to.  
  
“Say, Rae?” he asked. “Did you have anything like where you used to live, before you moved here with your mom?”  
  
“If we did, I don't remember it. There's a lot I've blocked out about then, you know?”  
  
His parents' divorce. Right. Fritz felt like an idiot for even asking, but Raeger didn't seem put off in any way. In fact, he asked Fritz the same question. “What about you? This can't be exclusive to Oak Tree Town—Klaus's told me about the displays they'd have at the dock when he used to live in the city, and Giorgio's told me about stuff ten times better than this, when he's gone to visit his fiancee on holiday.”

Fritz usually limited his talk to life before Oak Tree Town to vague and generic topics, or just the year leading up to his move. Being asked to talk about his family in depth was one of the very few things that could get Fritz to bring the conversation to a full stop. There wasn't anything to hide, exactly, but there wasn't much to say, either.

But this was different. This was _Raeger_.  
  
“Well, it wasn't really _too_ different. It wasn't really a fireworks festival, just a fair at the end of summer. With rides and exhibits, and food stalls—oo, and a petting zoo! I'd always wanted to go but...” he hesitated, knowing what he was about to divulge wouldn't be earth-shatteringly startling. But it was still embarrassing. “Fairs cost money, and we didn't really... have that. But the fireworks, you could see those a mile away!”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
Fritz could feel Raeger's eyes on him rather than the fireworks, but didn't dare glance sidelong to confirm it. Just watched the golden tails above them, leaping and arcing every which way, like the night had found a sparkler to play with.

“Yeah. My dad would take me down to this park, on the edge of town, and it kind of went up on a hill? So like, we got a _really_ good view of the fireworks, and it was just the two of us. We'd make a night of it, bring some snacks and some pop, and just lounge up there—like a picnic! And he'd always make a game out of it—we'd take turns predicting what color would come next. I still actually kinda do it, myself, when I'm watching the fireworks here.” Tonight he'd been a little too preoccupied, but he didn't say as much. “We never really kept track any official way, but my dad swore every year that I won...”  
  
“Sounds like you miss it,” Raeger said quietly.  
  
“Nah... not really. Maybe in like, a nostalgic kind of way. Like I miss when everything was simpler, all-around.” Or, it had been through Fritz's eyes. When he was ignorant, oblivious to what was really going on. “But I don't think about wanting to go back—to that time, or to my home—... my _old_ town. I don't got time for all that lookin' into the past and stuff. This is my home now, anyway! If I wanna watch fireworks and guess what color's comin' up, I got you for that, Rae!”  
  
Raeger chuckled. His thumb circled softly along Fritz's hand. “Oh yeah, well, then what's next?”  
  
“Green!” Fritz called out just as a rocket shot into the air. No luck. It was a jet of white and purple, whistling shrilly. “Dangit. Alright, your turn.”  
  
“Blue,” Raeger said, choked from forcing back laughter.  
  
“What? Can't hear you!”  
  
“BLUE!” he shouted, loud enough to be heard over the thundering boom that went off. Streaks criss-crossed, electric blues and bright whites. “One point for me.”

“No way! That's only a half-point!”  
  
With his free hand, Raeger picked up his snow cone, taking another bite. “Hey, you only had me choose one color, so there's no way I could have picked white on top of—”  
  
“Next one!” Fritz interrupted, watching another firework surge into the sky and racking his brain for a color to guess. “Uh... uh... BLACK!?”  
  
Raeger made a noise that was half-snort, half-laugh, spitting out pieces of snow cone. “Dammit... Fritz, what the hell...?” He coughed, or tried to, for all the laughter he couldn't hold back. “Seriously? _Black...._ fireworks?!”  
  
“Dude, am I gonna have to get you a bib?” Fritz released his hand from Raeger's and reached over to wipe a bit of ice from his bottom lip. It wasn't easy, as Raeger was still laughing. “Oh, come on, it wasn't _that_ funny!” But Fritz was grinning too—he loved making Raeger laugh, even if it was rarely intentional.  
  
“Black...” he shoved Fritz's hand away. “Black fireworks. You're ridiculous...”  
  
Raeger eventually settled down, and on the night went, the fireworks display and their back-and-forth guessing game. Fritz lost track of who was in the lead, points-wise, but he definitely felt like he was winning. Amidst the competition, Raeger confessed that the real way he'd (mostly) gotten over his fear of fireworks, besides just maturing and realizing simply watching them wasn't dangerous, was imagining they weren't fireworks at all but a sort of intergalactic space battle, with a fully-developed narrative behind it.

Fritz meant to add his own chapter to Raeger's years-long epic sci-fi story—there was _not_ enough aliens for his taste—but he couldn't be heard without shouting. That, or he'd have to lean in to whisper in Raeger's ear, and then he'd miss the majesty above him—what would have, in past years, been the grand finale. But Fritz didn't think so, not this year.  
  
And he was right.  
  
There were cheers and whistles of appreciation, hoots for more and fervent applause, and after it died down, Veronica's voice came through loud and clear, as it had before the festival.  
  
“Thank you one and all for your attendance of this year's Fireworks Festival! We sincerely hope you enjoyed it so far—but there's more to come, so stay tuned! After a twenty minute intermission, we'll return with the grand finale.”  
  
The depot's lights illuminated, a dull glow surrounding the venue. People began milling about, and the buzz of chatter filled the air, sounding something like the cicadas that provided a musical backdrop to Fritz's summer nights on Greenhill Farm.

Raeger had dropped his arm from around Fritz's shoulder a while ago, but Fritz could still feel its warmth, its weight. He wondered, as he watched Raeger slide the pile of coins off the counter and into an empty pitcher, if he should reciprocate during the finale. Maybe that'd be pushing it too far—the night had already gone far better than he'd hoped, with all the chaos that'd led up to it. He should be grateful for what _had_ transpired, but...  
  
“I'm gonna take this to Veronica,” Raeger said, drawing Fritz away from his deliberation. “You sure you don't want your cut?”  
  
Fritz shook his head. “Nah, it's for a good cause. Go 'head.”  
  
“Well, then I'll just put mine in too.” Raeger swept the remaining coins into the pitcher. It was about two-thirds full. “And hey, while I'm doing this, why don't you use up the last of the syrup and make a few more snow cones? We can just set them out for people to take for free—better than letting anything go to waste.”  
  
“No sweat! I'd be glad to!” _Absolutely_ , he would stay behind as Raeger talked to Veronica! Maybe Raeger would even point out that Fritz had willingly given his profit, put in a good word for him.  
  
Fritz filled the snow cone machine and kept one eye on Raeger while churning out a few more batches of shaved ice. Veronica was with Angela, near the depot's south entrance—nothing too odd or unnerving.  
  
Then, Fritz's arm slipped, almost knocking the machine loose of its clamp. Raeger, Veronica, and Angela were being joined by Annie. And _Mistel_.  
  
Mistel, who glanced over at the kiosk, at Fritz, more than a couple times, but didn't appear to be saying anything as the conversation between the quintet—mostly Veronica, Annie, and Rae—went on.  
  
Mistel wouldn't... _say_ anything about the ring, right? He was Fritz's friend! Sure, Mistel could be critical! And sometimes he'd say stuff like, “Fritz, if I'm not in my shop, _do not_ browse at your own leisure.” And when Fritz had invited Mistel to his birthday party last season because “all his friends were coming!”, Mistel had told him that he didn't think he'd be coming because “we're not friends, Fritz.”  
  
But...! That was silly. Mistel was dating Annie, and Annie was one of Fritz's best friends, so through the transitive friendship property, that meant Mistel and Fritz were friends too!  
  
Still, there was nothing wrong with a little damage control.  
  
Fritz gingerly picked up four snow cone cups, two of each flavor, and made his way over to the group. Annie appeared the only one glad to see him. Angela, Veronica and Raeger all seemed slightly uncertain, whereas Mistel just looked impatient, like Fritz had wandered into the shop two minutes before closing.  
  
“Here you go, guys!” Fritz handed out the four cups to everyone but Raeger. “Free of charge, to our loyal customers.”  
  
“Oh, thanks!” Annie said, taking the Summertime Splash for herself and passing the Heat Wave over to Mistel.  
  
“No way, Annie, we should be thankin' you!” Fritz beamed. “We couldn't have made the snow cones without your crops.”  
  
“You do it all for this town, it seems,” Mistel said. “Not only the largest donation for the festival, but more-or-less responsible for the refreshments too.”  
  
“Hey, I'm all for givin' credit where it's due, but Raeger made these,” Fritz pointed out.  
  
“You _made_ them,” Raeger said, then addressed everyone else. “It was his idea. I wanted to do smoothies, but he convinced me otherwise.”  
  
“Oh, yes, with your little contraption over there.” Mistel took a bite of snow cone, but couldn't hide his smirk. “I can certainly see Fritz's unique... _influence._ "  
  
"I, for one, appreciate your hard work, Fritz," Veronica said. "I know it was difficult for you, having not donated. It was thoughtful of you to help Raeger and put a hundred percent of your earnings towards the town.”  
  
“Wait, you didn't donate?” Raeger asked.  
  
And at the same time, Mistel said, “Ah, so you _didn't donate_."  
  
“No, I...” Fritz looked between everyone—but mostly at Raeger. “I didn't have enough... the storm! You know, it wiped all my crops out, and—”  
  
“Oh, well, that's strange.” Mistel interrupted. He paused to drink down the rest of the snow cone, the empty cup being waved about lazily as he elaborated. “I would've thought you had plenty to go around, after your visit last week.”  
  
Fritz's heart seized, like he'd downed the snow cone too fast. _Dammit, no..._ “Well, uh... you know what they say... buy when everyone is selling, and all that!”  
  
Annie's eyes were on Fritz, curious, and he could sense Rae's were as well. Mistel's, too, though less curious. There wasn't anything for him to be curious _about_ , at this point. “Hm, I mean, you bought that silver from me, no hesitation. And that doesn't come cheap. I just figured you must have come into a large sum of money recently—though I wouldn't know how—if you were spending it so flippantly.”  
  
“ _Mistel_!” Annie hissed, tugging at her boyfriend's sleeve. Mistel ignored her.  
  
“When was this?” Raeger asked.  
  
“Last week,” Mistel answered before Fritz could. “After the fishing festival but before that storm blew through.”  
  
“I didn't...!” Fritz started, no idea how to salvage this. How to explain himself _without_ explaining himself. “It was important, alright? I wouldn't just buy silver for shits and giggles.”  
  
He'd already gone over this with Mistel the day he'd bought the silver! Mistel had asked him why on earth he needed it, and when Fritz didn't give him a straight answer, Mistel had pressed further, wondered if it could be for a commitment ring; Annie had done the same a year ago, made a ring from the very silver she'd purchased from Mistel's shop.

Mistel's honest question of who the ring could possibly be for, and Fritz's lack of response, was an exchange Fritz had played over and over in his mind, until Raeger's birthday was upon him, and Fritz had decided a snow cone machine was more indicative of where their relationship currently stood.  
  
He could have sold the ring in the week between Rae's birthday and tonight. Would have been wise to, considering Sakura County was in demand for clothing and accessories. But despite Mistel's incredulity that Fritz would commit to anyone or have anyone willing to commit to him, Fritz knew his chance would come—and that he'd be ready when it arrived.  
  
Tonight, even with it being only a few days later, was that chance.  
  
Or, it had been.  
  
“What else would you buy it for?” Angela asked, even more scrutinizing than she was when on the clock at the clinic.  
  
“I... _something important,_ alright?”  
  
“It must have been,” Mistel agreed. “Important, that is. To you, at least. I'm sure the town could have greatly benefited from that eight thousand G for this festival, but then, who am I to tell you how to manage your finances? Thank Goddess for Annie, though, so in the end it doesn't matter one way or the other. Not that I approve of her being taken advantage of, but we _do_ have that spectacular finale coming up, thanks to her.”  
  
Raeger looked at Fritz, a combination of disappointed and confused, then back to the rest of the group. “Right, and I'd hate to miss it because we're standing 'round chatting. We're gonna head back—” he jabbed a thumb to the kiosk behind them. “—to watch it.”  
  
“You sure you don't want to stay here and watch it with us, Raeger? Both of you?” Annie ventured. Fritz had to hand it to her; she was staying remarkably neutral, considering the prickly charge to the air.  
  
“Nah.” He started to back away and gave a cursory wave. “C'mon, Fritz.”  
  
Raeger walked back to the kiosk a lot faster than he'd walked from it, Fritz tailing behind him. “Geez, Rae, wait up... We got plenty of time 'til the finale and—”  
  
“Look, why don't we get out of here?” Raeger said once inside the booth. He knelt down to check the ice chest, and packed the sleeves of paper cups into the other chest, with the empty syrup pitchers. “We can watch from outside my restaurant. Sorta like how you said you used to watch the fireworks with your dad from the outskirts of town. Besides, it's not like the umbrella's gonna be in the way.”  
  
Fritz laughed despite himself. “Are you sure? You're not.... mad?”  
  
“No—a little worried, maybe, but I'm not _mad_.” Again, he urged Fritz. “Come on, I don't wanna talk about it here. We'll pack up the machine, but everything else I can get tomorrow before the depot opens. And look,” he nodded to the two cups sitting on the counter, “there's two left. One for me, one for you.”  
  
Raeger'd _said_ he wasn't mad, but... obviously he'd been caught off guard. Did he think Fritz had just used the snow cones to try and get in everyone's good graces since he'd foregone donating? Sure, in a way, he had, but he would have helped anyway, even if he'd donated a trillion G. It was to bring joy to Oak Tree Town _and_ to spend time with Raeger, help the restaurant out. Yeah, it benefited him, but that was never, _would never_ be the reason he'd have done it.  
  
But that didn't make him feel like any less of a loser, knowing Mistel, and now probably Annie, Veronica, and Angela had this perception that he'd acted selfishly.  
  
He was about to tell Raeger that he didn't have much of a hankering for snow cones at the moment, and then his appetite was erased completely.  
  
Not too far behind him, the last voice he wanted to hear piped up, “Annie was wondering if you'd any snow cones left.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Sorry...” Fritz started dismantling the snow cone machine just to give himself something to do, and didn't spare Mistel a glance. “We're closed.”  
  
“Oh, that's too bad; she really liked that Splash one.”  
  
“Well,” Fritz said, trying not let his words come out as mopey as he felt. “Raeger'll be selling smoothie versions for the rest of the season if you guys wanna—”  
  
“Here,” Raeger interrupted in his best customer service-voice. He handed the last two snow cones to Mistel. “You can have both of them. Free.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Fritz looked up, surprised and slightly betrayed. What was the big idea? After telling Fritz they could split the final two snow cones, Raeger was gonna give them away to Mistel? Who'd treated Fritz with nothing but thinly-veiled scorn just a couple minutes ago?  
  
“Yes, are you sure?” Even Mistel was taken aback, and added, “I'm willing to pay, certainly. You shouldn't have had to give all your earnings to Veronica, I don't mind—”  
  
“Yeah, no worries,” Raeger replied. “You and Annie enjoy, alright?”  
  
Mistel started to respond, but Raeger turned away from him, helped Fritz finish boxing the machine up.

As the seconds passed and Mistel didn't move, and orange drips ran down the paper cup onto his fingers, Fritz threw him a weary smile. “C'mon man, don't want it to melt.”  
  
“I'd like to pay for this,” Mistel declared, ignoring Fritz's suggestion. His voice lowered, closer to a hiss. “I'm not in the business of grubbing onto charity wherever and whenever I can take it.”  
  
Fritz swallowed, inching out of the kiosk with the box in tow. He didn't think Mistel would follow them, not with Annie waiting. More than anything, he wanted to get Raeger away from this. He didn't deserve to be in the middle of this cooked-up conflict.  
  
Raeger, however, stayed where he was. Kept calm and collected, as if Mistel was a customer at the restaurant who asked to speak to the owner. “Mistel, look, you're reading into it too much. Annie was nice enough to supply me with the ingredients; I don't mind giving you guys a free snow cone or two.”  
  
“I'm not talking about the damned snow cone.” Mistel threw the orange one to the ground, gesturing with the remaining pink one. “I'm talking about—”  
  
“I know what you're talking about. And you can quit talking about it.” With that, Raeger's voice lost its professional air. “We're leaving, so you don't have to worry any longer about anyone 'taking advantage' of Annie.”

Mistel rolled his eyes, accompanied by a dismissive _tch_! “I suppose being a chef doesn't mean your sense of taste extends to all facets of life.”  
  
“Shut up,” Raeger bit back at him.  
  
Mistel blinked. “Excuse me?”  
  
“Think what you want about Fritz, but don't expect everyone else to go along with it. I sure as hell don't. I don't know what you're trying to prove, but knock it off.”  
  
Fritz could sense the other residents becoming intrigued, turning their attention to the kiosk. Annie didn't seem to be among them, thank Goddess, still chatting with Veronica and Angela on the far end of the plaza. But if a veiled reference to this exchange ended up in one of Iris's future novels, he wouldn't be shocked.  
  
“I'm not the one who has anything to prove.” Mistel said sharply. “Your... _companion_ here, however—”  
  
“Hey, Mistel?” Raeger cut him short, his welcoming front-counter smile reappearing. “That snow cone, that you already had, what, three of? The Heat Wave flavor, that you liked so much? Those were made from mangoes fresh from Annie's orchard—"

“I know that! What are you—"  
  
“And carrots from her greenhouse.”  
  
Mistel's mouth snapped shut, terror exploding like fireworks in his wide eyes. It was too dark to properly tell, but Fritz was sure that Mistel's face had taken on a different tint, paled with fear or nausea or probably a little of both. The Summertime Splash snow cone fell from his hand, and landed, true to its name, in a puddle at his feet.

* * *

The walk back to the restaurant was like a firecracker with a match to its fuse. Fritz feared if he said anything, it would set Raeger off again. Yeah, Raeger had defended him, but that didn't mean his temper, which was normally something close to infinite, wasn't running short. Fritz had always thought they were good at communicating with each other, and this was one of those times where he had to bite his tongue and face the fact that no communication at all—giving Raeger time to cool off—was the best option.

When they reached the restaurant, Fritz set the snow cone machine on one of the patio tables and sank onto the nearby outdoor stool. Head bowed, he tried to look around his feet for any tiny glint of his misplaced ring—it had to be here, if it was anywhere. But, as the rest of his day had gone, he hadn't any success.  
  
He didn't even realize they'd separated until he heard Raeger's voice from over by the restaurant's front entrance. “Hey, you can't watch the fireworks with your back to 'em. Get over here.”

For as much as this had fallen apart, it was still going _somewhat_ how Fritz had planned when he'd pictured this night—the night when he was _supposed_ to give Raeger the ring. Walking Raeger to the door, stopping him from going inside. Telling him he had something important to talk about with him, and—this part Fritz hadn't really figured out, because it short-circuited his brain when he tried to piece it together; he'd wing it—basically spew his romantic feelings for Raeger out.  
  
“So uh, just to make extra, _extra_ , sure,” Fritz said as he climbed the two steps in front of the entrance, taking his spot next to Raeger. “You're _not_ mad at me anymore?”  
  
“I was never mad at you, Fritz. Not like, actually mad, like I was at Mistel.”  
  
“So that means... you had a good time? Even though I pretty much leeched off all yours and Annie's goodwill, you... you still had fun, right?”  
  
The crooked smile Raeger gave was answer enough, but he put in, “I always—”  
  
 _POW!_ _KER-BANG!_  
  
The night sky burst in an array of violets, red and lime-green. The reflection shimmered across Raeger's face, that momentarily faltered out of its smile. He edged closer to Fritz.  
  
“Sorry...” he breathed out.  
  
“That's just the alien spaceships. Don't worry, you're okay...” Fritz thought about reaching for Raeger's hand...  
  
but Raeger snatched hold of his first.  
  
“Anyway, like I was saying, I always have fun with you. Tonight's no exception.” Raeger gave his hand a squeeze, mirroring what Fritz had done in the kiosk.  
  
And Fritz wanted so badly to squeeze back, but...  
  
He couldn't. Fritz let his hand fall out of Raeger's. It felt _right_ , him and Raeger, but with everything that'd happened tonight... it felt wrong, too.  
  
“Fritz, what's going on? It can't be just about not donating... and I hate seeing you this miserable.”  
  
“Mistel... what he said...”  
  
“Mistel can shut the hell up. I don't care what he has to say, not when he's trashing you for no reason. And he'll get over it—that's not the first time we haven't seen eye to eye. Maybe not in front of the whole town, but... Annie'll talk some sense into him, I'm sure.”  
  
“But it's not for no reason, Rae, that's just it! He was telling the truth! I didn't donate anything to the Fireworks Festival, and I _did_ go to his shop last week, dropped all I had left to buy some silver. For a ring. That's why I didn't get you anything for your birthday, either, why I had your mom send the snow cone machine; I couldn't afford anything!”  
  
“Why didn't you just _tell_ me that you donate, then? I wouldn't have even cared, but hearing it like that from Veronica, in front of our friends... _shit_!” Another deafening _boom_! resounded, from what sounded like all sides. Fritz was glad they weren't in the kiosk, that much closer.  
  
“I wanted to!” Fritz insisted. “And I was gonna, at the festival, but then the fireworks started... and I was having such a good time with you, I didn't want to ruin everything.”  
  
“You wouldn't have been _ruining_ anything. None of that matters to me. It doesn't matter to me that you didn't donate. There were times my grandpa didn't donate, you know, and that never changed my opinion on him, because he gave so much to this town outside of a one-night festival, and you do too. You spending the money on a ring, or donating it to the festival, or not... that's not important.”  
  
“See, that's... that's the other problem...” Fritz's gaze dropped to the mosaic tiling surrounding the restaurant, that reflected the fireworks. Green, blue, white. Yellow, blue again, orange. One right after the other.  
  
“What is...?”  
  
“The ring. I don't have it anymore. I lost it, somehow; go figure, right? Guess that's what I get.”  
  
Raeger let out a sigh, pushing off the door and down the steps to stand in front of Fritz. Fritz lifted his head to see Raeger's hand disappear into his jeans' pocket, and come out holding a small, silver band.  
  
“A ring like this?”

Fritz gaped. “Whoa, man, you made one too? What are the odds!”  
  
“ _No_ , Fritz, this is yours. I found it after I got back from taking you to the clinic. Under the table. It musta fallen out of your pocket when you fell.”  
  
“Wait, so you knew this whole time? About the ring?”  
  
“I didn't _know_ , no. I mean, I figured it was yours, but I wasn't a hundred percent sure until Mistel brought it up, and... here. If you want it back.” Raeger held it out and up at a slight angle, with Fritz two steps above him.  
  
Fritz was struck with the impulse to shove Raeger's hand back, tell him to keep the ring—it was for him, after all—but he found himself taking it. Studying it, turning it over and over. Not only had he gotten it back, here was Raeger, right in front of him...  
  
Raeger cleared his throat. “Like you told Mistel at the depot, it's really important, so I... guess now you can give it to whoever it's for.”  
  
“Yeah, I dunno about that. I made it hoping against all hope that they'd accept it, but now I'm not so sure.”  
  
“What makes you say that?”  
  
Fritz told Raeger all about the day he'd bought the silver, about his conversation with Mistel. How it'd wormed its way into his thoughts and made him second-guess every interaction with Raeger he'd ever had. The explanation took little more than a minute, because the transaction with Mistel hadn't been terribly long or in depth—it'd only become that way in Fritz's thoughts after he dissected it time and time again.  
  
“And then, I decided I was gonna sell it. I was on my way to the depot when you stopped me this afternoon, so I'd have some cash for the Fireworks Festival. I would've basically broken even, actually would've made a bit of a profit, if I'm doin' my math right... wait a minute.” Fritz stopped abruptly, realizing the error he'd made. “I... I just admitted that the ring was for you. And you didn't say anything or stop me or freak out or—... or _anything_! Aren't you... _surprised_?"

“No, I'm not, and I'm not stupid either—well, usually.” Raeger ran a hand through his hair. Clearly it was meant out of frustration, but Fritz found it unbearably hot. “But c'mon, Fritz, I'm not gonna kid myself and pretend like all your little comments are just coming from a place of me being your 'bro'. Yeah, it's taken a while for me to come to terms with it, but it's not remotely surprising that you want to give me a ring. The only surprise is that it's taken you this long.”  
  
Fritz stepped down from the door, knowing he wouldn't be heard if he didn't. Quietly, he said, “I was just... waiting for the right moment, that's all. It was gonna be your birthday, but I chickened out, and then I thought maybe, tonight, but I lost it, and even if I hadn't, with everything Mistel said—well, you were there. ”  
  
“Like I said, Mistel can shut up. You shouldn't listen to him, especially not for any kind of relationship advice. I don't think he has your best interest at heart.”  
  
“You do, though.” A smile tugged at Fritz's lips.  
  
“Yeah,” Raeger smiled softly back at him. “I do. So why don't you go ahead and give me the ring tonight, like you were gonna?”  
  
“Wh...? Are you sure?” Fritz was squeezing the ring so tightly now, he was sure it'd leave an imprint in his sweaty hand.  
  
“Fritz.” Raeger reached for Fritz's hand, the tone of his voice hardening. “Give me the ring.”  
  
Fritz clumsily side-stepped his advance. “Whoa, hold on! I can't just... _give_ it to you without sayin' a few things first!”  
  
Raeger rolled his eyes. “Okay... I just thought you'd rather quit while you were ahead and—”  
  
“Hey, cut me some slack, I've never done this kinda thing before! So ex- _cuse_ me if I don't know what the hell I'm doing!”  
  
“You've never asked someone to go out with you?”  
  
“Not... _seriously_ , no. Not like this, giving them a ring to show them I'm ready to commit! Why do you think I was so worried about making tonight so amazing?”  
  
“Because you're blindly dedicated to this town and do whatever Veronica tells you to. Like you told me earlier, this place is your home now.”  
  
“No! It's not about Oak Tree Town, Raeger, it's about _you_.” Fritz was practically shouting, could be heard over the fireworks exploding above them. The oranges and emerald-greens and crimsons glimmered in Raeger's widened blue eyes. _"You're_ what makes this town home!”  
  
Raeger just stared. Opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out.  
  
Slowly, Fritz turned his hand over, opening it to reveal the ring and the reality it symbolized. “Look, being with you always makes me feel better, even when you _don't_ cook for me. Seriously, man, even if you never made another meal for me ever again, I'd still think you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and that's gotta mean something, right?”  
  
Raeger carefully took the ring from Fritz's palm, examining it for several moments before his response came, barely above a whisper. “I guess, yeah. It must.”  
  
“Well, even if it doesn't...” Fritz took a deep breath, swallowed his fear down; he'd come this far. “I still... really, really, _really_ like you.”  
  
“That's...” Raeger turned the ring about slowly, continuing to study it. His expression was pensive, like he'd been given a new recipe to try. Which, maybe, wasn't too far from the truth of it, this concept of him and Fritz together; a couple.  
  
“Weird, right?” Fritz forced a lop-sided smile, hope bursting within him like the glittering fireworks overhead.  
  
“Yeah... you liking me... Me liking you...” Raeger finally glanced up at Fritz, sliding the ring over the tip of his thumb and tucking it into his hand. He took a step closer, his available hand grabbing hold of Fritz's tattered vest and eliminating the space between them. His head lowered, mouth hovering inches from Fritz's as he agreed, “Really weird.”  
  
Propelling himself up on his toes, Fritz caught his mouth on Raeger's. Kissing him was sweeter than all the snow cones in the world, and he couldn't bring himself to stop. His fingers, all sweaty and sore from their work at the kiosk, were at Raeger's head, weaving into his equally sweaty hair.  
  
He would have been content to let it go on forever, the prism of fireworks flickering behind his eyelids and Raeger keeping him pulled close, but a massive cracking _BOOM_! split the air, and split Fritz and Raeger apart. Raeger pressed his palm to his chest, where his heart must've been galloping like a race horse.  
  
“You...” Fritz swallowed, trying to relegate his own breathing. “You good, there?”  
  
“I think so...” Raeger said haltingly.  
  
“Good.”  
  
Fritz threw himself at Raeger, arms circling him at the shoulders and legs linking around his waist. Raeger staggered backwards under the weight, arms flailing out in a wild attempt to find support from the patio table behind them, keep them from dropping completely to the tiled ground.  
  
He failed.  
  
Fritz was on top of him, legs splayed on either side of his waist. Raeger twisted around, not an escape attempt but more like he was searching for something, as he was looking everywhere but at Fritz.  
  
“The ring!”  
  
“What?” Fritz blinked down at him.  
  
“The ring!” he repeated. “I dropped it... I think it rolled this way...” He swatted his arm to the left, coming up with nothing.  
  
“Way to go, Rae, losin' the ring I gave you already!” Fritz mock-scolded him.  
  
Raeger groaned.  
  
“But forget about the ring!” Fritz took hold of Raeger's wrists and pinned them down above his head. More-or-less sitting in his lap now, he leaned in to kiss him. “We'll find it tomorrow!... Or if we can't—” Another kiss. “—my onions should be ready, and you can fry up an onion ring to use in its place.”  
  
“I am not wearing an onion ring.” Raeger sighed, staring up at Fritz. Then his gaze shifted, to what was beyond Fritz. The night sky, the masterpiece of fireworks whose light glowed in Fritz's peripheral.  
  
“I forgot to tell ya,” Fritz said after a pause, “that you won the guessing game. Grand prize of one snazzy ring and one loving boyfriend.”  
  
“What if I'd lost?” Raeger chuckled. “Then what?”  
  
“Then... ah! _I_ would've won myself an awesome boyfriend.” Fritz slid off of Raeger, sitting down next to him. “I think, anyway. So, see, Rae, there were no losers. It's like I told you with the snow cones: it's all about the experience!”  
  
Raeger sat up and draped his arm across Fritz's shoulder. “It's always an experience with you, Fritz. And I mean that in the best way possible.”  
  
It was a warm night, but Fritz could feel heat creeping up his neck, his cheeks. He leaned in to Raeger, and reprised his hold from earlier, bending his own hand up to catch Raeger's hanging one.  
  
“So now what?” Raeger asked. “What's next, with all that outta the way, huh?”  
  
The blossoming fireworks created the perfect romantic backdrop as Fritz studied the sky with a pondering _hmmm_ and finally settled on _,_ “Yellow!”  
  
“Yel—...? What..?”  
  
“Nailed it.” Fritz pointed to the gigantic yellow fountain, slowly fading into oranges and whites. “Haha, you know what, Rae? Us getting together was like fireworks, if you think about it... that _tension_ , and pressure... being set off on a hot summer night!”  
  
“Er... I guess so? I hadn't thought about it—“  
  
“And your restaurant has stoves, which have fire, and you gotta ignite fireworks... oh and the gunpowder!...  
  
“Fritz, what...? There's no gunpowder in our... experience together, what are you...?” Raeger bumped Fritz's shoulder with his own, trying to rein his focus back in. “And listen, when I asked what was coming next, I meant... like, for us. Not what color.”  
  
“ _Ooooooh_. Well, duh, isn't it obvious?” Fritz scrambled out from under Raeger's arm and into his lap. “The grand finale.”  
  
He laced his fingers behind Raeger's neck, pulling him in for a kiss passionate enough to fuel a whole 'nother fireworks festival, and that, while grand, was in no way final.

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been in the making for a while now, and a lot of it is based off of the boys' respective dialogues during the Fireworks Festival. It spiraled out of control from there, as all my Fraeger ideas are wont to do. But look, I can write Fraeger that's not smutty! Also I'm sorry if Mistel seems too much like the villain here but tbh I love Mistel and will probably marry him on my girl file (hence all the Annie/Mistel popping up in my Fraeger fics). Seriously if I knew a Fritz irl I'd probably be about as tolerant of him as Mistel is lol. Also in my personal opinion and experience, Raeger works too long and hard in customer/food service to not eventually snap... especially looking at some of the backhanded things he says in game, i'm like boy gon go OFF one day. Anyway.
> 
> This is a gift for Larissa, aka my co-anchor of The Fraeger Report <33333 Thank you for your support and friendship and I hope you love it as much as I loved writing it!!!<3333 And thanks to **BelleofHell** , especially, for reading through stuff and listening to me talk about Fraeger during the writing process of this xD
> 
> And thank you to everyone who reads this! Comments and kudos are always appreciated! 2020 sucks ass, the least I can do is find escape and humor aboard the Fraeger train, and hopefully you can too, if even a little.


End file.
